


Running

by LeafoftheFox



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Being Chased, Dude just wants to help the kids, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Helpfulness, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Torture, Nutrition, Resourcefulness, Running, Telekinesis, Unspecified powers, no beta we die like men, super powers, they are so stubborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22831096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafoftheFox/pseuds/LeafoftheFox
Summary: Run, we have to run. Always running, never-STOP!
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had rare instance of proper inspiration yesterday and belted this out in about 25 mins, hope you enjoy :)

Run, run, run, we have to run.

  
I can feel Thomas’ hand shaking and sweating in mine. His sobs have long since dried up and his hitched breaths have mingled with the heavy breathing brought on by our frantic escape.

Run, we have to run.

I have to be strong for him, but I feel so scared and alone. We had barely escaped with his power outburst and I don’t know if we can do it again. I don’t want to go back, never again. Two stays with **_those people_** is more than enough, even if the second was only a few days.  
So, we have to keep moving. Two seven year olds somehow have to manage to stay ahead of that massive organisation.

Run, run, we need to run.

Sweat mingles with blood on my back and Thomas stumbles blindly at my side. I don’t know if he lost his sight to **_them_ **or his own out of control powers. All I remember is the horrible pain ending with an all consuming bright light. At the time I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I had screamed and cried because it wasn’t fair. Because I had worked so hard to escape and runrunrun last time. Because last time I lasted seven months and this time I was pitiful enough to fail after four days?

The next time I had woken it was with Thomas huddled over me, sobs wracking his form. The sight of his eyes, glowing unearthly white, had been terrifying, but nothing is going to stop me from helping my friend.

We ran, ran, ran. So far, so fast. Not fast _enough_.

He says he can still see something, but it's not normal and I don’t know if his legacies changed him or injury and lack of treatment did.  
Yesterday I had started feeling hothothot and I know Thomas can tell, but he knows we can’t stop. We might never be able to stop. Running forever until our energy gives out. Prolonging their hunt, making it a challenging sport. Oh god, oh god, please no.

We run. Keep running. Just run, run, run.

His grip in mine is tight and I can barely feel my hand with the lack of circulation. My legs feel deadened with the effort and I know Thomas must feel the same for all that he refuses to complain.

I hear him when we stop to rest, mournful cries muffled by his arm. I know he hears me too. I don’t say anything. Neither does he.  
Because in a few hours or less we have to get up again.

We have to run, run, run. Run some more, always run.

I hear the grinding shift of stone before I feel Thomas falling. He trips, his hold on me dragging me down beside him.

F  
A  
L  
L  
I  
N  
G

I lay there on my front, my eyes closed, my breath harsh, my heart rattling in my chest like a bird in my cage.

Running, we were running. Running. And then… we stopped.

I can hear the rustle of cloth that signals Thomas getting up. I don’t move. He touches an area of my shoulder he knows is less marred by torment. I don’t move. He shakes my shoulder gently, his breaths coming high and distress, a whine piercing the air, drowned out by my own rattling circulation of air. I don’t move.

“Sophie?” a high thready voice inquires. The shaky wobble indicative of a wavering resolve to hold back sobs. I. Don’t. _Move_.

I can almost feel Thomas’ resolve snap with me. He collapses back down, laying down, sitting, I don’t know. Why do I care? Horrible keens echo through the night. Stop it. Stop it. Just _shut up_. I can’t do it. I can’t run. Why prolong this? Why do you make me care? Why did I go back for you? Why do you still _follow_ me? It’s my fault you’re like this. You cry at night, you can’t see, you’ve lost your family. You saved me and still I’m the one you choose to love.

“It’ll be okay,” The voice is deep and gravelly, but kind. Like a warm hug from someone who cares. It’s accompanied by steps approaching deliberately, quietly.

… I surge up! My strained muscles scream at me in protest as stagger back to my feet, a feral snarl already crossing my face. Thomas gasps, but follows me. I can’t see him, but I can hear him moving and I know he is scowling just as hard behind me. Tear stained and dirty, but his eyes glowing that ethereal white.

Stand up, stand firm. Never again.

I won't let them. They can’t have me; they _can’t have him_. We are ours, we are alive, we are strong. I know I can't look like much. A seven year old girl with clumped greasy blonde hair, grimy clothes hanging on me like rags. I’m covered in sweat, blood, tears and the muck impossible to avoid in a dash as mad as ours. I have no powers, no energy, no hope and no ideas, but I’m still strong. I will beat this because I have to. Because we are strong together.

I force my stiff neck to look up at the form approaching us. A tall human shape emerges from the darkness. It’s a man. A young one. He looks down on us with sad blue eyes. His mouth and nose are covered by a black mask and his blonde hair is shorn close to his skull.  
He wears clean clothes, a disgustingly normal pairing of blue jeans and a brown hoodie, and hefts a sturdy black backpack. He… doesn’t look like **_them_**. He looks like he wants to help, like he-

No, no, NO! A trick, a lie, a civilian. He is either a greedy traitor being paid to catch us or a well meaning stranger too stupid to understand the danger he’s getting himself into.

“Go away!” I screech, my voice hoarse. Leave, leave, please just _go_. Tears prick my eyes, but I won't let them fall. I have to be strong, strong for Thomas.

The man stops just a few feet away from me.   
“No,” The word comes decisely as though this were the natural response. He stands, relaxed, and his face is full of pity or understanding. This startles a hysterical laugh from me. Understanding? HA! As if. How could anyone understand what it’s like to-?

Run, run, run. Have to run. Need to run. Can’t run. Keep r u n n i n g.

“I said LEAVE!” I scream at him, spittle flying from my mouth to hit the ground in front of him.

I can hear the beginnings of a growl from behind me. Oh, he’s doing it again. The growling, the whining. Thomas doesn’t talk about it. I can tell that he hates that he does it, but in a situation like this I’m just glad for the added intimidation factor.

“I can help you-.”

“Help?!” I interrupt viciously. He doesn’t seem to mind, only settles in to listen to what I have to say. How can he be so calm? How can he see us and act like he knows what he’s doing? How can he act like this is such an easy thing for him to do. It’s not _fair_. “You have no _idea_ what you’re offering!”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t.”

I snap. I lunge for him with a howl. All my pain and fear and hope and desperation crammed into that one vocalisation. My hands are held up like claws, ready to scratch and bite at hi-!

I’m stopped in my tracks. I- can’t move. All my limbs locked in the position they had been in. I hear Thomas yelp behind me, but my attempt to look back and check on him fails.

“And I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t prepared to defend myself and you,” The man continues, his hand held out towards me. His voice doesn’t waver as though he is having a simple conversation about the weather.

  
“My name is Lucas. I’m like you and I’m here to train you two.” As seeming proof, his eyes flash a wolflike amber.

I gasp. He’s… like us? He drops his hand and I immediately fall like a puppet with its strings cut. All the fight has drained out of me. Is he really safe?

  
The man, Lucas, instantly darts forward to catch me. His arms are strong and warm and the material of his hoodie is soft and comfortable.

The dam of tears I have been holding back for so long finally breaks. I sob and sob and sob into his chest and I can feel his arms curl around me in a gentle hug.

“I’m so, so sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Lucas speaks, his own voice sounding choked with emotion.

“You- really want to help us?” I hear Thomas’ vulnerable question.

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Lucas assures, getting back to his feet and lifting me with him. He holds me carefully like I’m a frail bird. He crosses the distance between us and Thomas in three quick strides and settles back into a kneel. 

I feel his arms open and my friend crashes into the man's chest beside me. Lucas curls over us as we sob, making gentle shushes and reassurances.  
We are _safe_. We can stay. We can finally stop  


R  
U  
N  
N   
I  
N  
G.

We are safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, I wrote a follow up. I couldn't help myself. The working title of this scene as 'Sophie is suspish'

“You know, I don’t remember many of us being your age and according to ** _their_** records, the only guy that would fit went nuts and broke out of a base in America,” she spoke casually from where she sat on the bedroll Lucas had provided.

  
“Is that so?” the man responded, not looking up from where he was stirring makeshift stew in a metal pot over a hastily, but efficiently built, fire.

  
“Except, I don’t think that guy was as old as you, unless you aged _really_ badly.”

  
“I’m in the prime of my life,” he replied mildly, pausing to add some herbs to the stew.

  
“Uhuh,” Sophie was very unconvinced.

  
“You know, I’m sure we could get your hair washed, or I could cut it. I’m not exactly a stylist, but I can manage,” his eyes twinkled a little like he’d made a joke when he glanced back at her for an answer.

  
“Yeah, right. Savior or no savior, I’m not letting you near me or Thomas with a weapon.”

  
“I could get blun-.”

  
“Not. Letting. You. Near,” she repeated firmly.

  
He sighed in exasperation and returned to the food.

  
“Besides, as amazing as I look in clean clothes,” she indicated the orange shirt and blue jeans “The sudden gifts tailored weirdly to my tastes are pretty suspicious. Stuff about you just doesn’t add up.”

  
“You hated the pink dress,” he pointed out.

  
“Red herring,” she waved off easily “Everything else is great.”

  
“I’m glad you think so highly of my taste in clothes.”

  
“That is not the point and you know it!” she pointed an accusatory finger.

“Sophie, he really has helped us a lot,” Thomas finally piped up, tugging gently at her new shirt. Sophie’s eyes softened a little.

  
“We can’t trust him,” she spoke quietly.

“Then don’t.” Lucas said easily, causing both children to jump in frightened surprise at being overheard.

“Set up a watch schedule, I’ll give you some of my weapons,” he continued as if they hadn’t reacted at all, although that could’ve been because he hadn’t even turned around “Check your food. Or, if you want, we can move into a town and squat somewhere, I’ll give you money to buy your own food. It better be healthy though. You need to stay with me, so I can make sure your wounds don’t get infected.”

“Like we’re letting take us to the next location. First rule of kidnapping: don’t let them take you to the next location,” she growled.

“I didn’t kidnap you, I just found a good place nearby to rest and eat.”

“And we could just go to the hospital!” Sophie persisted. Thomas whined in the back of his throat at this, but went ignored.

“You know that’s a bad idea. You’re not human and even if that didn’t set off alarm bells with them, they wouldn’t be able to treat you properly,” he blonde explained calmly.

  
“So, what? We’re just supposed to go along with whatever _you_ say?” she sneered.

  
“You’re allowed to question me, I just want you to be safe,” he left the pot to grab some bowls and spoons from his pack.

‘Safe’. That word struck an annoyingly desperate chord in her heart. He had to know (didn’t he?) that safety was the thing she wanted most in the world (galaxy, universe) for herself and Thomas.

“If I have a good reason for objecting to something, would you listen to me?” she asked dubiously.

“If you have a good point and you argue it well, then of course. I’m not a kidnapper and I’m not perfect. I won’t always get it right, but I won’t make you do something if you really don’t want to.” Lucas filled one bowl and the next with a large ladle. He set both, with spoons in, in front of Sophie, knowing that she would get defensive if he approached Thomas directly.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“Humph, fine. I’m still suspicious of you though,” she huffed petulantly, juxtaposed by how careful she was in making sure Thomas had a proper grip of his bowl before she turned to hers.

Lucas laughed, seeming unbothered by this.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :D  
> ~Leaf

**Author's Note:**

> I am ridiculously proud of this piece, so I would LOVE to have some feedback. I might write more for this universe, but the other pieces probably won't be as intense.  
> ~Leaf


End file.
